


sunshine

by prefacing



Series: requests [1]
Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: F/M, First Dates, Picnics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prefacing/pseuds/prefacing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looks and smells like sunshine, he thinks, and for a second Barry forgets how to breathe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> a quick drabble for a friend of mine, who was kind enough to give me an excuse to write about my favorite pairing.

She looks and smells like sunshine, he thinks, and for a second Barry forgets how to breathe. Dressed in yellow muslin with a woven picnic basket slung over one arm and hair curling gently at the nape of her neck, Iris turns towards him, head cocked to one side and mouth turned upwards in a smile.

(What would it be like to kiss that mouth, not just today but every day?)

He tries to articulate his thoughts (in a direction away from the inappropriate), opens his mouth to say something clever and witty to this woman who deserves nothing less than the finest of compliments—

“You're very yellow today.”

—and fails spectacularly, earning straight zeros from the silent panel of judges in the back of his mind, as well as pursed lips and a single arched brow from Iris.

(Even with her face twisted in judgment, she's still the prettiest girl he's ever seen.)

“And you're very white today.”

Barry lets out a silent sigh of relief after being unable to detect any trace of malice in her voice and quickly reaches out a hand to help take the basket from her.

“Here, let me.”

She hands it over with a grateful smile, extracting the picnic blanket from the top of the basket and laying it out over the July grass with a delicate flick of her wrist before settling down and spreading the skirt of her dress with just as much grace. He follows, his landing decidedly more bumpy, and it's not long before he's laying out what she's brought—sandwiches, lemonade, a set of cutlery. Standard picnic fare, and not nearly as interesting as the woman who'd packed it all. A woman he still can't believe is sitting next to him if he's completely honest. 

He doesn't realize he's still staring a minute later until she speaks up.

“What?'

Pink tinges her cheeks and it's mesmerizing; in the short time he's known her, she's never been anything but composed, confident, controlled. To see her self-conscious like this...it's both awe-inspiring and endearing. He'd like to see her like this again soon. (He'd like to see her again soon, period.)

“Nothing. I was just thinking about how pretty you are.”

His face colors to match her own but she's laughing and it's the sweetest sound he's heard all day.


End file.
